


Until It Wasn't

by TDKeh16



Series: "Mon Petit Chou" Series [7]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Anxiety, Drug Use, Hockey, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Overdose, M/M, Past Abuse, Past Kent Parson/Jack Zimmermann, Past Relationship(s), Poverty, Substance Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-07-10 11:16:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6982465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TDKeh16/pseuds/TDKeh16
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Kent Parson lets his perpetually friendly façade slip a little, he is usually met with some variation of "Geez, did your mother not hug you enough as a child?" in response. His mother hugged him plenty, SHE was never the problem. </p><p>A glimpse into Kent Parson's troubled past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Until It Wasn't

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Devisama](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devisama/gifts).



> This was originally something I wrote on tumblr as a prompt from Devisama. It's a Headcanon about Kent Parson's past, a few key moments from childhood up until about a month or two before the NHL draft.
> 
> Trigger warnings for: alcohol/prescription drug abuse, domestic/child abuse, anxiety, implied drug overdose

Kent Parson learned from an early age that most love came with conditions. The only time his father ever said he was proud of him was when he scored the winning goal in his first hockey game. Every day after that was a struggle to earn more approval from the man who was too busy drinking to remember his eighth birthday. The only thing that ever earned him a "good job" from his father was hockey, and he pushed himself to become a better player every day. Even then, he could count the times he heard approval from his father on one hand. It was four.

By the time Kent Parson turned ten years old, he had mastered his winning smile. If he smiled, people smiled back. If he smiled, nobody asked him any questions. Questions that might make his father mad. He also mastered strategic falls on the ice. For a boy so skillful on his skates, he sure took some _clumsy_ falls. Falls like the one that earned him a large bruise on his upper leg despite his pads. A bruise that was _definitely_ not caused when he accidentally found himself in the path of a chair his father had thrown across the room in a drunken rage the night before. It made some on the adults around him suspicious, but he smiled and laughed with his friends about being so clumsy, so it was probably nothing.

By the time he moved to Québec at sixteen, his father was a year into his first stint in prison for multiple DWIs. He missed his mom, but at least she was safe. They tried their best to visit one another at least once a month, but she worked two jobs and it was hard to get enough time off to make the trip up to Montréal. Sometimes Kent would take the bus down to New York for the weekend and it would coincide with a rare full day off for his mom. Those were the best days. Most of the time, though, his visits were spent playing video games until his mom got home around 11:00pm with some food from the diner she worked in during the evening. They ate quickly while she told him stories about the regular customers and Kent took in every detail, happy to have even this short time with her. She was always so exhausted and 6:00am came early. Kent would kiss her on the cheek and tell her to get some rest, and he'd wash their dishes after she had gone to bed before turning in for the night himself.

The boarding house in Québec was not so bad. It housed him and three other boys in the QMJHL who came from outside of Montréal. He was the only one who was not fluent in French, but if he smiled enough and showed how hard he was trying to learn, he was sometimes included. The host parents were in their late sixties but very friendly and Kent liked to help them out with chores whenever he could. When he did, they smiled at him and told him he was a good kid and that was _almost_ like love. Right?

And then there was Jack Zimmermann. He was quiet and liked to keep to himself most of the time, but he was _incredible_ on the ice. Jack was apprehensive of Kent at first, since most 'friends' he met only wanted to use him for the sake of meeting his famous father. Kent understood _why_ to an extent, after all, his father was **_Bad Bob_ ** Zimmermann. Kent was anxious to meet him too, but it did not mean he liked Jack any less. In fact, he liked Jack _a lot_. After the first time he managed to make the brooding boy crack a smile, Kent was hooked. They became inseparable.

Kent Parson spent all the time he could at the Zimmermann house, and not just because he got to meet Bad Bob the NHL legend. Bob was strict about hockey, yet encouraging, and always willing to help the boys refine their technique. Alicia became his anglophone refuge, a sympathetic ear while he struggled to learn his second language in a bilingual city.

When they were not focussed on hockey, Jack would help him with his French homework and carry on simple French conversations with him. Whenever he tried speaking French out in the city, he was immediately responded to in English. It was nice that people were trying to be considerate, but he _wanted_ the practice. Thank goodness for the Zimmermanns, _especially_ Jack. 

Kent was grateful for the French tutoring, but studying with Jack sometimes felt like unwittingly walking into a minefield. It was hard to tell when a question -- or one wrong answer too many -- would set him off. Sometimes it was nothing to do with Kent at all, just the combination of a bad game and a difficult math problem could trigger a slew of angry French sentences stuttered with frustration that Kent could not possibly understand. Once, when they were seventeen, Jack got so worked up that he threw his chemistry textbook across the room in an anxious fit. Kent left immediately. He could usually handle Jack's mood swings, but that day reminded him too much of his father. It scared him. 

When Jack apologized for his behaviour after their next game, Kent smiled and assured him that it was fine. Jack smiled back. _Everything was okay._

Jack's medication changed after that. They started going out every weekend to parties and drinking -- it was even easier once they turned eighteen. _Everything was good._

Jack smiled a lot when he was drinking, and Kent _knew_ he was nothing like his father. His father was always angry when he drank. Jack was smiling, he was happy, he only got angry when he lost a game. He was different from Kent's father. Jack had a great smile, too. Even when they lost a game, if they snuck a couple drinks, he would end up smiling. Kent smiled too. _Everything was great..._

_**Until it wasn't.** _

"I thought you only had to take those once a day," Kent asked when he caught Jack chasing a pill with half a bottle of beer.

"Huh? Oh, uh, yeah. Just once," Jack smiled at him, but it was not his usual smile.

"Don't you take them in the morning?" Kent had spent enough nights at Jack's house over the past two years to know his usual morning routine.

"Yeah, I uh... I must've forgot this morning..." Jack's shoulder bounced against the door frame as he tried to leave the kitchen at the home of one of their teammates. "Whoa!" He laughed and gripped the wood. "You coming?"

"I think I might leave soon... Are you okay getting home alone?"

Jack stumbled back into the kitchen. "Can I come over tonight?"

Kent had rented a small studio apartment as soon as he turned eighteen. "Only if we leave now. The Métro is almost done for the night and I don't want to take a cab."

"Okay."

Everything changed after that night. Kent insisted his little apartment a ten minute walk from the Beaudry station was solely because the price had been right. He did not need a lot of space and the rent was cheap... It was a lie. He knew there was more to it than mere curiosity, but until that night with Jack, he had been too scared to make any move.

Crowded onto his single bed and both just fuzzy enough to let their guards down, Kent dared his fingers to brush lightly on the bare skin of Jack's arm. They both shivered involuntarily. Jack pushed Kent's hair back away from his face. "Kenny..." Kent wasn't sure who closed the final distance between them, but they kissed. And kissed again. And it felt perfect. Maybe _this_ was love.

The next morning, Kent woke up to the rattle of Jack's pill bottle. Like usual, Jack poured himself a full glass of water to take with his prescription. Kent pretended to be asleep in order to watch him a little bit longer. The sun poured through the window and onto Jack's broad shoulders, bare, since he was wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. They had spent half the night just kissing and touching each other and Kent was sure he had never felt happier. _Everything was good._

He watched silently as Jack knocked three pills into his hand and chased them with the glass of water. Jack took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. Had his prescription changed again? Kent could have sworn the bottle said to take one pill the last time he had seen it... _But everything was okay._

Jack knew what he was doing. He was doing so well. They both were, the draft was coming up soon, and-! Jack turned around and noticed that Kent was awake. He walked back to the bed and stooped down to give Kent a good morning kiss. He smiled. _Everything was great..._

_**Until it wasn't.** _

**Author's Note:**

> What did you think? My poor trash son and his angsty past. If you enjoyed this, please consider reading my Kent Parson fic "Ace of Hearts" which takes place after he and Jack have started to reconcile and Kent is navigating a relationship with one of his fellow Aces. It's not necessary to read the whole "Mon Petit Chou" series, but that would be cool too.  
> This little fic isn't necessarily linked to "Ace of Hearts" but it is the past that I have in mind when I write Parse, so you can *almost* consider it a little prequel.
> 
> The Beaudry station in Montreal is pretty cool. It is decorated with rainbow colours outside because it is inside the gay village. Beaudry is also my Grandmother's last name, so I found it especially cool when I visited there.
> 
> Comments are always appreciated! I'm a glutton for feedback lol


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